


Business or Pleasure

by jynzandtonic



Category: Adam Driver Character Universe, Marriage Story (2019), The Report (2019)
Genre: Aftercare, Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Come as Lube, Dom!Charlie Barber, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, OR IS IT REALLY A ONE NIGHT STAND?, One Night Stands, Other, Praise Kink, Pre-Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, bisexual!Charlie Barber, bisexual!Dan Jones, sub!Dan Jones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:15:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29387553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jynzandtonic/pseuds/jynzandtonic
Summary: His flight home to New York canceled, Charlie finds himself stranded at a hotel in the Chicago airport for a night. After meeting a handsome stranger at the bar, his evening ends up beingmuchmore than he bargained for.A year later, he's happily settled with you when he gets the text—Dan Jones is traveling to NYC for work. It's up to you to decide if you'll have both of them.TLDR: some mlm and a steamy mothafuckin' threesome with Charlie Barber and Dan Jones!
Relationships: Charlie Barber/Daniel Jones (The Report), Charlie Barber/Reader, Charlie Barber/You, Daniel Jones (The Report)/Charlie Barber, Daniel Jones (The Report)/Reader, Daniel Jones (The Report)/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Business or Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on tumblr [@jynzandtonic!](jynzandtonic.tumblr.com) ʕ •ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡ 
> 
> ················································

Recycled air.

His eyes burn from the tyrannical little stream of it, and he cranks the overhead nozzle counterclockwise to tamper its flow. He couldn’t count the number of flights he’s made between New York and LA in the past year to visit Henry. It was worth it—it was all worth it to see his son—but fuck, he’s tired. 

He’s three hours into the cross-country flight—one long leg cramped behind the proceeding seat, one stretched blissfully, daringly into the aisle. The pilot’s voice crackles over the PA system, droning on about weather on the Eastern seaboard. Something about two feet of snow on the runway at JFK. He removes his headphones, pausing the audiobook he was half-paying attention to.

The plane is redirecting to Chicago; all inbound NYC flights are canceled till the next morning. _Fuck_.

He groans, pressing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. He was counting on the soft sheets of his own bed and the comfort of his own apartment in the city to soothe his travel-weary mind tonight. 

He supposes it’s just not to be. 

Travel bag slung over his tense shoulders, he checks into his room at the Chicago O’Hare Hilton, claiming his room key and making his way down the plushly-carpeted hallways. 

Door clicking shut behind him, he hangs his suit bag in the closet and drapes his cardigan over the chair. He sinks down onto the edge of the bed for a long moment, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. 

He needs a drink. At least the place has a good bar.

He splashes cold water on his face and changes into a fresh blue dress shirt before he leaves—a small action to shed the lassitude of travel. 

His heavy legs carry him down to the [Gaslight Club](https://img.theculturetrip.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/5cff3ef9.jpg), the handsome 20s-era speakeasy on the lobby level. The soft sounds of the baby-grand piano are an immediate balm to his soul as he settles himself at the bar. 

Four words are all he can manage at first: “Martini—dry, up. Please.”

The cool glass and icy liquid against his lips burns so pleasantly, a welcome reprieve from plastic cups of bottled water balanced on tiny tray tables. 

He drains it in a handful of sips, chest warming and mind beginning to calm. He lets out a deep sigh, setting the empty martini glass down against the bartop with an agreeable clink.

“Are you stranded here, too?” A dark-eyed, clean-cut man quirks the corner of his mouth up slightly from two seats down, his large hand wrapped around a rocks glass. 

Charlie chuckles. “Is it that easy to tell?”

“Only because that’s how I felt about _my_ first drink,” the smiles back at him

“Where were you headed?”

“DC. Flying home from LA. And yourself?”

“Small world,” Charlie muses. “New York, flying home from LA.” 

“Ah,” the man hums. “Travelling for business, or pleasure?”

“Hmm…” Charlie considers. “Pleasure, I suppose. Though travel doesn’t feel too pleasant right now, does it?”

“Not particularly,” he laughs amicably.

He’s handsome; there’s no denying it. Charlie takes in the way the man’s suit clings to his body in all the right places, the way his neatly-cropped hair accentuates his long, elegant neck, the way his eyes shift between amber to onyx in the low light of the bar. 

“And yourself?” Charlie asks. “Business or pleasure?”

“Business. I work in Human Rights. Visit to the LA office.”

“Now that’s something I’d like to hear more about. What are you drinking?” Charlie’s gaze is warm and soft, looking from the man’s plush, pink lips to his well-kempt hands. He can’t help but notice the absence of a wedding band.

“Oh, uh, Scotch. Macallan,” he says, swirling the last bit of rich amber liquid. 

“A gentleman with good taste.” 

Charlie meets the bartender’s eyes, lifting two fingers and nodding his chin toward the near-empty glass. 

Two fresh pours are placed in front of him, and he pushes one across the smooth, marble bartop. 

“Thank you,” the man says, his fingertips brushing ever-so-slightly against Charlie’s as he accepts the drink. It makes the hair on his forearms stand on end. “I’m Daniel,” he offers. “Dan.”

“Dan,” Charlie repeats the name, rolling the taste around on his tongue, _tasting_ it. “I’m Charlie.”

_Dan_. Charlie can’t keep his eyes off Dan’s mouth as he speaks, as his tongue works in his mouth. Dan looks at him so steadily, so attentively while he tells him about his divorce, about his determination to be there for his son. Lost in conversation, they each move a seat over, bridging the gap between them. 

Drinks long emptied, they talk. Dan’s body cants toward Charlie’s. It doesn’t go unnoticed. Their knees brush under the bartop, and Dan’s chest rises sharply, but he doesn’t withdraw. Subconsciously, Charlie tongues at the inside of his cheek. 

He was married for so long. Always with one person. Then the affair, then the divorce. Never this. Never sharing a drink with a handsome stranger, never knowing there would only be one night. _Just one night._

Taking a long, slow inhale, Charlie looks Dan square in the eye. “Forgive me if I’m being too forward, but… would you like to come up to my room for a nightcap?” 

Fingertips toying with the rim of his glass, Dan nods.

“I’d love that.”

. . . . . .

Charlie sets two glasses down on the dark wood desk, but his eyes aren’t on them. They’re fixed on where Dan leans against the edge of the dresser, legs stretched out long, upper body gently curved.

“Thank you,” he says softly, not so much as glancing in their direction.

Dan takes in Charlie’s wide frame, the way his button-down is loosely rolled to his elbows—it’s strangely… _intimate_ like this.

_Just one night._

“You look good in a suit,” Charlie says, squaring himself in front of Dan. He takes Dan’s thin, silky tie between his fingers, gently pulling it from its tie clip. “Don’t know how you look so good after flying.”

Dan’s lips part softly, releasing a shaky breath. “I could say the same for you.” 

Charlie’s hand closes into a fist as he pulls, pulls, pulls until Dan’s face is mere millimeters away from his own. The heat of Charlie’s exhales wash over Dan’s mouth as he examines the peaks of his cupid’s bow and the beauty marks on his jawline. 

Dan waits. Waits for Charlie to make the first move, waits for _permission_.

“Do you want me as much as I want you?” Charlie asks, lips nearly brushing Dan’s.

Dan nods, stifling a groan that threatens to escape his throat.

“Use your words,” Charlie husks.

“Yes,” Dan whispers, eyelids fluttering. His head spins, cock swelling up in his slacks.

Charlie traps Dan’s mouth in a searing kiss, tongue delving into his mouth to seek the peaty sweetness of the scotch they’d shared. His free hand wraps around Dan’s jaw, pressing into the firm flesh in a way that makes him whimper.

He moans when Charlie’s hips press into his own, the thick bulge of Charlie’s cock grinding against him slowly, deliberately. 

“Fuck,” he gasps into Charlie’s mouth.

Charlie smiles, pleased at the effect he has. He wants to tell Dan all the things he’d like to do to him, to reduce him to a whimpering mess at his feet. 

He tugs a handful of Dan’s hair sharply, forcing his gaze upward.

“Do you want to suck my cock, Daniel?”

He crumbles at the sound of his full name, groaning deeply and shuddering. He’d do anything for Charlie if he just… if he just… calls him _that_.

“I do.”

“Kneel,” Charlie says, sucking at the juncture of his neck and jaw.

Dan sinks to the floor, knees pressing into the carpet as he nuzzles at Charlie’s thighs, breathing heavily through his mouth.

_He’s gorgeous like this,_ Charlie thinks, _so needy and desperate._

He savors the view of Dan—slowly tugging at the tail of his belt to unfasten it, slowly undoing the button and clasp of his slacks, slowly lowering his zipper. He palms his cock through his boxers, feeling the heat that radiates from it, anticipating the feeling of Dan’s lips wrapped around it.

Working his pants down around his thighs, he lets his length bob free, watching Dan swallow thickly at the sight of him. He takes his veiny, swollen shaft in hand, tapping his reddish-purple head against Dan’s parted lips, nearly groaning at the sensation. They’re so soft, so _plump_.

“Open,” he orders, and Dan happily obliges.

A rich, throaty sigh escapes from Charlie’s throat as his tip glides onto Dan’s gently curved tongue, passing into the wet cavern of his mouth. 

He’s eager for Charlie’s length; taking him deep on the very first stroke. Dan’s hands come to the rise of Charlie’s hips, wrapping around them to anchor himself. He wants to _please_ him, wants to _impress_ him, wants to make him feel _so, so, good._

And Charlie _does_ feel good. He thrusts shallowly, relishing the way Dan’s tongue cradles his cock and teases the thick vein on his underside. Lacing a hand through Dan’s inky locks, Charlie guides him along his shaft.

Dan pulls himself in closer each time Charlie pushes his head, fingertips digging into the swell of his hips. He breathes deeply through his nose as Charlie speeds his pace, trying his best to relax his soft palate, to welcome Charlie deeper and deeper. 

Charlie’s cock is thick, meaty, swollen.... enough to _choke_ on—and he does. Dan gags and gurgles, pushing his nose to the very base, taking in the musk of Charlie’s skin as his cockhead crushes into the back of his throat.

“Good boy,” Charlie groans, looking down with adoring eyes. “Just like that.”

Dan whimpers at the praise, fervently dragging his lips along the length of Charlie’s cock, spit pooling at the corners of his mouth.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Daniel?” Charlie asks, hand tightening in Dan’s hair. 

Dan hums on his cock, nodding and moaning and drooling, the feeling of it reverberating through Charlie’s hips.

He could spill his cum down Dan’s throat. He could, yes, and it would be so, so delectable. But Charlie has other plans for him. 

He pulls him off his cock with a wet slurp—Dan’s mouth hangs open, gulping down air. 

“Thank you,” he pants. “Thank you.”

Charlie tucks himself back into his pants, lazily sliding the zipper back up. “I want something from you, first.”

“Anything,” Dan says, chest heaving.

“Bed,” Charlie commands, tugging at Dan’s tie as he rises to his feet on shaky legs.

Dan backs up to the king-sized bed, not breaking eye-contact with Charlie. 

“Undress yourself,” Charlie rasps, retreating to the armchair in the corner and kicking off his shoes. “I want to see all of you.”

Dan sheds his suit jacket, dropping it on the floor with a carelessness that Charlie can’t imagine is common for him. Nimble fingers loosen his tie, unbutton his white dress shirt. They’re cast aside in a similar manner. Dress shoes, socks, belt, and slacks all join the pile on the floor. His long, trim legs flex with sinewy muscle as he works his briefs down to his ankles.

Charlie’s mouth waters at the sight of Dan’s long, thick cock. It’s flushed the most delicate shade of pink, darkening to a luscious red where it curves up at the tip. He’d like to take that cock in his hand, his mouth, his ass. _Just one night,_ he laments to himself. _What a shame._

“Show me how you’d tug your cock if you were alone tonight,” he says, eyes pitch-black as Dan shifts himself to rest against the headboard.

Dan licks a hot stripe up his open palm, wrapping it around his throbbing shaft. He squeezes softly, pulling a milky bead of precum from his cockhead. Pressing his thumb against his slit, he smears it in a slow circle, groaning at the wetness.

And it feels so fucking _good_ when he starts to pump his fist just underneath his swollen tip, legs twitching as he works himself slowly, languorously. His eyes flit from his cock to Charlie, who sits with his legs spread wide. 

“That’s it,” Charlie praises, noticing the way Dan’s core tightens at the words. 

Dan shudders as his hand slides further up and down his shaft, stimulating more of his length, more of his sensitive skin. His hips rock gently, cheeks clenching as he thrusts into his fist.

It takes all Charlie has not to pull his cock out again, not to make himself cum all over his own lap. He plucks the glass of scotch from the desk next to him, the burn of the liquor matching the burning in his hips.

Dan begins to pant, sweet little moans falling from his open mouth. The veins on his hand bulge as the corded muscles on his forearm flex, his pace speeding.

“Oh, god,” he sighs, his voice low and honeyed. It’s music to Charlie’s ears.

“Does that feel good, Daniel? Hm?” Charlie asks, finally breaking and setting the whisky down, squeezing his cock through his slacks.

“So good, _so_ good…” He’s going to cum. All he needs is permission, and he’s going to paint his stomach white, spill every drop he has. “Charlie… Please,” he implores, head lolling back.

“Stop,” Charlie says simply.

Dan nearly cries out with the force it takes him to pull his hand away from his cock, leaving him reeling, hands clenched into tight fists.

“ _Good boy._ ”

The warmth of Charlie’s words rip through Dan like a flash flood, and he thinks he could nearly cum untouched. He pinches his eyes shut tight and presses his skull back against the headboard, mouth agape.

Charlie rises slowly, adjusting the cuffs of his button-down. The mattress dips under his weight as he kneels on it, shifting up the bed to where Dan reclines.

“So well-behaved,” he says, stroking along Dan’s cheek. He shudders and moans, leaning into Charlie’s touch.

“Th-thank you,” Dan stammers, still trying to collect himself.

“I think you deserve a reward,” Charlie hums. “Spread your legs.”

He settles himself between Dan’s thighs, hitching one up at the knee. Taking his balls in hand, Charlie kneads them, pulling them upward to reveal the tender patch of skin underneath. He sucks on it gently, gathering all the wetness in his mouth. Dan moans as Charlie spits, letting it trickle down to the tight, pink pucker of his ass.

Charlie hollows his cheeks once again, lifting his face to let a tendril of spit drip onto Dan’s cockhead.

“Please,” Dan begs, eyes imploring, hands fisted in the sheets. “Please.”

Charlie smiles, taking Dan’s tip into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around the defined ridge of it as he begins to swirl his spit around Dan’s ass with a broad fingertip, feeling every sweet ripple. He presses gently at his entrance, slowly feeling the muscle yield to him, start to _swallow_ him. 

“ _Charlie, oh, fffuck…_ ”

Dan squeezes around Charlie’s finger, hungry for the intrusion as he pushes in deeper, deeper, deeper. 

Still suckling at his tip, Charlie pulls off to look at Dan’s face. He dips his finger in and out of Dan’s ass, curling it against the front wall, watching the way his eyelashes flutter. “You like that, don’t you?”

“Ahuh,” Dan pants, rocking his hips into Charlie’s hand.

“I bet you want another one, don’t you?”

“Ahuh, ahuh...”

“Words, Daniel. Use your words.”

“Please,” he whimpers. “Another finger.”

Charlie obliges, pushing a second finger to Dan’s hole, pumping softly to open him up, to _prepare_ him.

“Do you want my cock, Daniel?” he asks.

“I do—please, Charlie, I do.”

“Then you’ll have to cum for me, first.”

Charlie sinks his lips to the bottom of Dan’s cock, dragging up to the tip only to drop down again. He wraps his free hand around the base of his shaft, matching the rhythm of his mouth as he sucks and slurps. 

He scissors his fingers open inside of Dan while he works his cock, pulling lewd moans from his chest. Even as tight as he is, Charlie thinks he’ll be able to take his cock. Charlie _knows_ he’ll be able to take his cock.

Dan’s hips start to spasm, cock twitching heavily against Charlie’s tongue. He’s close. Charlie pops off his shaft, jerking him roughly as he teeters on the edge.

He’s fighting like hell, Dan—doing all he can to stave off his impending orgasm. Charlie doesn’t understand. 

“Please,” Dan pleads, eyes saucers staring down at Charlie.

And _then_ he understands.

“Cum for me, Daniel. Cum for me now.”

Dan’s jaw drops open and a chesty moan tumbles from his lips. Thighs quaking, spurt after spurt of creamy white spend shoots from his tip, splattering on his belly, dripping down his waist. 

It’s a sight to see: his core flexing, his chest heaving, his angular jaw jutting forward and trembling with his pleasure… And it’s enough to make Charlie subtly grind his throbbing cock against the mattress. 

He forces himself to break away, setting his mind on the task at hand.

Lifting himself to his knees, Charlie continues to work his thick fingers into Dan’s ass, relishing in the way he continues to squeeze him greedily. 

With his free hand, he swipes up a swath of Dan’s cum, lifting the fingers in an offering to him. Clasping Charlie’s wrist in his hand, Dan tongues up his own cum.

“What do you say?” Charlie asks lowly, eyes full of pride.

“Thank you,” Dan breathes, kissing Charlie’s freshly-cleaned fingertips. 

Dan shudders as Charlie stops his ministrations, slowly withdrawing his fingers. He hastily pops the buttons on his shirt and tosses it aside, shucking off his boxers and slacks to free his aching length. His cock is hot and heavy; his belt buckle thuds heavily as it hits the floor. He drags Dan’s hips down the bed, spreading his thighs wide to slot himself back between them.

“I got just what I needed,” Charlie smiles down at Dan’s stomach. 

Sweeping his hand through the pool of cum on Dan’s waist, he slicks his cock with it from base to tip, the warmth of it not lost on him. The rest he gathers and drizzles between Dan’s legs, watching it slide down to his rhythmically clenching hole.

He’s wet and ready; they both are. 

Charlie presses his cockhead to Dan’s tight ring of muscle, jaw clenching as he starts to sink into his heat. He rocks his hips gently when he meets resistance, when the squeeze on him is nearly too strong to push in deeper. 

Dan moans softly, eyes fixed on where Charlie’s fat cock disappears into him.

“So good for me, Daniel,” Charlie breathes, starting to bottom out. “You’re taking my cock so well.”

Dan swears under his breath, hands flying to Charlie’s waist to pull him in closer. Finally sheathed to the hilt, Charlie catches Dan’s wrists and pins them above his hands, mouth hovering just above his ear. 

“I want to mark you. Show everyone who you belong to,” he whispers, hot breath fanning over the side of Dan’s neck, kissing down to his collarbone. He sucks just above it, rich reddish-plum blossoming on the pale skin under his lips. His mouth trails up to where Dan’s shirt collar would rest, leaving another searing imprint. 

Dan will have to be careful if he doesn’t want it to be visible when he dresses tomorrow.

_Good,_ Charlie thinks. 

Dan’s spent cock jumps, tapping against Charlie’s hips. Charlie grinds against him slowly, sensuously, feeling him start to swell against his bare skin—his pace speeds as Dan’s length hardens to a stiff mast. 

Sweat beginning to shine on his chest and forehead, Charlie pumps his cock into Dan again and again, jerking upward with every stroke, hitting a spot inside him that makes him keen. He can feel the way Dan starts to leak against him, the way his hole starts to flutter and clench at a rapid cadence. 

He snaps his hips harder and harder as Dan’s mouth drops open, as the sound of his sweet, breathy moans wash through the hotel room.

Dan throws his head back into the pillows, cock drooling, ass stuffed so fucking _full_ of Charlie. 

Charlie snarls with the effort, lost to the slick slide of Dan’s tight little hole, the bliss spread across his face. He wants him to cum, wants to feel him bare down, wants to feel his hot spend paint his stomach. 

And by the look of him, he’s close—he’s _so_ close.

“Do you want to cum? Hm?” he asks, eyes boring into Dan’s.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Dan begs. 

“Then you’ll do it without hands,” Charlie says, sliding his waist against the underside of Dan’s cock.

“I—” 

“Focus,” he orders, pistoning his hips, thrusting in deep.

Dan’s eyes flutter shut, squeezing hard against Charlie’s cock each time he withdraws, flexing his core tight until his legs start to shake.

“Charlie,” he gasps, lips trembling and stiff cock twitching. “Charlie…”

“Now, Daniel.”

His cock pulses deeply, filling the space between them with slick, sloppy cum as his whole body quakes with pleasure. Charlie rubs it against Dan’s belly with his own, drinking in the way he shudders and squirms from overstimulation.

Releasing his wrists, Charlie presses a heavy hand onto Dan’s waist to anchor him in place, fucking him ruthlessly, chasing his release. The sight of Dan’s body below him is enough to bring him to the edge: cum-covered, well-fucked, marked by his mouth. His balls start to pull up tight, liquid heat pooling in his hips. 

Dan’s cock spurts one last stream of cum at the ferocity of Charlie’s thrusts, and he’s gone—he empties himself inside of him. His thighs quiver, tingling to the fingertips with his release. He pulls out slowly, watching the way Dan’s pink ring still grips him after it all. 

Collapsing onto the bed next to him, Charlie pulls Dan into his chest, stroking warm hands over his back as he comes down from his high. 

“You’re fucking incredible,” he whispers.

“Likewise,” Dan pants, body limp.

_Just one night._

Charlie wishes he could slow down time, drag this night out forever. Wishes he could feel the delicious glide of Dan’s lips over his cock again, wishes he could make him cum till he sobs.

But it’s late. Early, rather. Only a small handful of hours remain till his flight is supposed to leave, and Dan deserves to be cared for right now.

“Shower with me,” he says into Dan’s hair, scratching gently at the skin between his shoulders.

He rises slowly, taking Dan’s hand to help his exhausted body to his feet, leading him to the bathroom. Waiting for the water to warm, he fills a glass with cool water, offering it up to Dan’s kiss-bitten lips. He gulps it down thankfully, eyes fixed on Charlie.

The steam billows around them as Charlie runs his fingertips over Dan’s scalp, lathering his dark hair. He uses his own shampoo—he wants Dan to smell him tomorrow when he’s gone. They wash each other, hands smoothing over each other’s wet skin, taking in what they both know are the now-lingering moments they’ll share their naked bodies. 

Towel slung low around his waist, Dan walks toward the jumble of clothing he’d cast away on the floor. 

“Don’t,” Charlie says. “Please.”

Dan looks up, searching his face.

“Stay with me tonight.”

It’s still dark when they wake, bleary eyes peeling open as the alarm blares rudely. Charlie’s wrapped himself around Dan protectively, arms caging him in, lips on the nape of his neck. 

“When will I see you again?” Charlie whispers.

“I travel for work a lot. Headquarters are in New York,” Dan says over his shoulder.

“I like the sound of that.” 

Charlie grinds against him softly, groaning in protest as he leans over to the nightstand to slip his watch around his wrist. 

“It’s time,” Dan sighs.

. . . . . .

It’s been a long year. It’s been good and bad and hard and beautiful, and finding you was the best part of it.

You shuffle around the kitchen of the little Manhattan apartment you share, plucking the percolator off the stove and fetching a pair of petite white coffee cups for the two of you.

Charlie sits on the sofa in the adjoining living room, phone dwarfed in his hand as he reads something on the glowing screen.

“Come here, sweetheart.” He pats on his lap, summoning you with the sheer gravity of him. He smiles softly with that _look_ in his eyes, that look that tells you he has something special planned for you. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.” 

Padding over with coffee in hand, you settle down next to him, draping your legs over his. You press a warm kiss to the side of his neck, looking at him expectantly.

“Remember that night in Chicago I told you about?” he asks lowly, stroking his thumb over your cheek. “Right before I met you?”

“Mhm.” You quirk an eyebrow, lips turning up at the corners. 

“He’s coming to New York.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> ················································
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr [@jynzandtonic!](jynzandtonic.tumblr.com) ʕ •ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡ 
> 
> [Buy me a whiskey?](ko-fi.com/jynzandtonic)
> 
> _No trigger is too small-- **ask me and I'll tag it!**_
> 
> **A brief note on sex and gender:** I'm AFAB nonbinary, so while I write for AFAB!reader (anatomy-wise) and I *do* have a soft spot for certain gendered pet names (which are always tagged if applicable), I hope there's enough space for folx at a variety of places on the gender spectrum to feel included in my fics xoxoxo.
> 
> ················································


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